


hearth & home

by whisperedwords



Series: an idiot's guide to maybe-sorta-kinda falling in love with your fellow outcast superheroes [2]
Category: Stargirl (TV 2020)
Genre: (repeatedly), Awkward Courtney, Crushes (Except That They're Definitely Unrealized), F/F, F/M, First Kiss, Multi, Nervous Courtney, POV Courtney, Polyamory, THIS IS AN OT4 FIC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:34:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25157848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whisperedwords/pseuds/whisperedwords
Summary: to love and be loved is to feel the sun from both sides.(or, courtney has kissed people before. and she'sbeenkissed before. but.......not like this. or this. or this.)
Relationships: Beth Chapel/Courtney Whitmore, Beth Chapel/Yolanda Montez/Rick Tyler/Courtney Whitmore, Rick Tyler/Courtney Whitmore, Yolanda Montez/Courtney Whitmore
Series: an idiot's guide to maybe-sorta-kinda falling in love with your fellow outcast superheroes [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1819771
Comments: 26
Kudos: 78





	1. wildstar.

**Author's Note:**

> i TOLD YALL. i am LOSING it. this is the same "exploring first kisses in a poly relationship" fic i wrote for pr2017 so just be ready for the exact same on-brand-ness i maintained in that one. also, it has been a WHILE since i tried to accurately write high schoolers, and ESPECIALLY ones like courtney, so...reader beware, i guess. (call me out if it's not right, i need all the help i can get here.)

Courtney isn’t a Kiss Virgin. She’s _not_ , she absolutely _isn’t_ —it’s just, you know, the last boy she dated back in California wasn’t exactly her style. Hot, sure, but he cared too much about looking like he didn’t care, and she just…wasn’t into it. They kissed, sure— _and she’s kissed other boys, too!_ —but the whole relationship thing just was never her speed.

And then her mom married Pat, and they moved to Blue Valley, and, well…the rest is kind of history. There’s no time for _boys_ when you’re responsible for saving an entire town and maybe even the _world_. It’d be immature to even think about, and really, Courtney is not immature. She’s the leader of the JSA. She’s _very_ mature. No boys allowed…except for Rick.

(And Pat, and Mike too, but they don’t—it’s not—whatever, it’s whatever.)

But here’s the thing: it’s hard to be the leader of a team of superheroes and not have someone to talk to about it. There’s Pat, _sure_ , but he doesn’t get what it’s like to be a hero, no matter how many times he says otherwise. Not like what Courtney feels. Not like what her _team_ feels. And that’s where Yolanda fits perfectly, her right-hand (or right _claw_ , as she’d dorkily suggested once) woman. It’s easy to talk to her. Yolanda understands how she thinks, _Yolanda_ gets what it’s like to be a hero with a costume, and on top of all that, she also knows what it feels like to be a 16 year old girl in the middle of her sophomore year at Blue Valley High School. She’s the perfect combination, really; Courtney knows she can tell Yolanda _anything_.

Well, almost anything. Because right now, sitting cross-legged on the bed across from Yolanda’s perch in Courtney’s windowsill, Courtney feels something…different.

“You okay, Court?” Yolanda asks, pulling Courtney’s attention away from the jumble of thoughts starting to cloud her mind. They lock eyes and magically, the thoughts disappear. Courtney smiles and nods, tucking a lock of stray hair behind her ear as if to prove she’s just fidgety, that’s all.

“Yeah,” she answers a beat late, laughing awkwardly to make up for it. Yolanda raises an eyebrow, but chuckles along with her anyway. “Sorry, sorry, I’m paying attention. I promise.”

Yolanda folds her arms teasingly in front of her, grasping the ends of her sweater in her hands and shaking her head amusedly. “Alright,” she continues, amused expression fading a little as she focuses on what she’d been talking about. “I was thinking I want to train you guys.”

“ _Train_ us?” Courtney echoes. Yolanda shoots her a dark look at the disbelief in her voice. “I mean—we all have different powers, and you’re a great Wildcat but you—you’re not Ted Grant, you know what I mean?”

_Courtney_ means that Yolanda doesn’t have the same superhero experience that Ted had, and definitely hasn’t been through as many battles. She means that Ted died fighting to keep the world safe, and he was _Ted freakin’ Grant_. The four of them are all on the same playing field when it comes to experience, and they have to learn _together_ as a team. All four of them. _Right_? 

Of course, that’s not what it comes out like. At her words, Yolanda’s focused-but-bemused expression fades further, into something much more reserved. Like the Yolanda of old. Her arms tighten around herself, and suddenly the sweater looks like it’s swallowing her whole. She exhales a bit, and Courtney sees the glittering light of excitement start to fade from her eyes. (Darnit, Stargirl is supposed to _bring_ light, not take it away—)

“Yeah, Court, you’re right—”

Oh no, not tonight. Courtney is enjoying their time together too much for Yolanda to Wildcat away out her window. “No, no no no—Yolanda, no, that’s not what I meant.” To sell the point, Courtney launches from her seat on her bed and plops herself right down next to Yolanda, bumping knees in her attempt to get Yolanda to hear her out.

Admittedly, it seems like it kind of works. Yolanda’s vibrant expression returns, if only for a split second to look at her with confusion and a twinge of something Court can’t quite place. But it doesn’t matter because she is _not_ gonna let Yolanda take this the wrong way, not this time.

“I just meant—I meant—you know what, I don’t even know what I meant. It was dumb, whatever it was—” she flops her hand around dismissively to get some kind of amusement out of her friend, and it works. Yolanda giggles a little, quiet enough so that only Courtney could hear it if anyone else had been in the room, and _oh_ there’s that feeling again. What _is_ that?

“Yeah, it kinda was dumb,” Yolanda replies, the amusement slipping back into her voice.

“It was,” Courtney reaffirms. Then: “I think you should train us. You know, punches and kicking, and super cool faces to make when we punch the ISA because you _know_ they’re gonna be looking—” Yolanda interrupts her with a loud, bright laugh, filling the air of Courtney’s room with a sense of warm, sparkly wonder. (Like her staff is glowing somewhere that she can’t quite see.) She reaches out and slaps Courtney in the shoulder, grinning from ear-to-ear as if what Courtney said was the funniest thing in the world.

“Shut up,” she giggles, and Courtney feels her face stretching to mimic that same grin. She tucks a strand of her hair back again and all of a sudden realizes exactly _how_ close to Yolanda she’s sitting, realizes that they’re knee to knee, shoulder to shoulder, and there’s that _feeling_ again—

“C’mere,” Yolanda says softly, as if Courtney’s not suddenly aware of every square inch of space missing between them. She reaches out again, though this time her hand— _both_ her hands—land on Courtney’s cheeks, gently cradling her face and looking so dang _sweet_ that Courtney just—she just—

_Oh my god_ , is Yolanda going to kiss her? Is—is that what this is? Courtney should shift, should shake her head laughingly like always, but she’s frozen because _does she want to kiss Yolanda back_? Her Wildcat ( _her_ Wildcat) has that same quiet smile on her face and she’s leaning forward, and oh god, oh god—

Courtney kisses her.

Full on.

Lip-to-lip, although she kind of encounters teeth because, well, as it turns out, Yolanda was just gonna pull her in for a hug and a head kiss. Courtney pulls back the same way Yolanda does, shocked and a little confused at how that just happened. Yolanda’s expression is…unreadable, though her eyes are wide and her cheeks look a little darker in the light of Courtney’s room.

“Ohhhh my god,” Court gasps, covering her hands with her face. “Oh my god that is _literally_ —Yolanda I’m so sorry, I don’t even really know what I was _thinking_ , this has to be the dumbest thing I’ve ever done in my _life_ oh my _god—_ ”

“Courtney.” Yolanda’s voice is quiet from behind Courtney’s hands, expression unknown because, well, if she looks at the weirded-out look on her friend’s face (her _best friend here_ , really, which only makes it that much worse) she thinks she’s gonna hop the staff and fly to Antarctica. She can’t misread any signs from any penguins there, and yeah it’d be cold but the staff could do something to keep her warm, she’s _sure_ —

“ _Court_.” Her voice has softened more, now. Courtney can’t help it; she drops her hands to her lap and slowly looks up, waiting for the disappointment to hit her like a train, but…Yolanda is smiling again, that same ear-to-ear smile from before except a little more subdued. And… _what_?

“What?” Courtney asks, accidentally forgetting to turn the brain-to-mouth filter back on. She claps a hand over her mouth and then shakes her head. Yolanda just laughs, soft like before.

“Hey.” Her friend rests her (soft, warm) hand over Courtney’s knee, brushes her thumb against the denim of her jeans a little. “Not the dumbest thing you’ve ever done. I promise.” Her smile softens more, impossibly, and that same feeling somewhere deep in Courtney rears its head again. This time…maybe she should pay attention to it.

“Sorry,” Courtney murmurs, feeling her face get hot. And then, thinking she can shift the mood to something infinitely less embarrassing, she continues, “I do think you should train us. It’ll be cool. Really.”

The sparkle in Yolanda’s eyes catches in the light of her room. “Yeah?” Courtney nods enthusiastically, not entirely convinced she won’t say something else ridiculous. “Cool. I’ll start planning stuff once I get home and talk to you guys more at lunch tomorrow.” She shifts in the windowsill and then stands, rubbing one eye a little and reaching down to grab her backpack. Courtney kind of wishes she didn’t have to leave. But she won’t argue, since she knows how the Montez family goes and how that curfew is not to be messed with. So she allows Yolanda to swing her Wildcat-filled backpack over her shoulder and walk towards the bedroom door like always, bobbing her head back and forth a little.

“Oh, and Court?” She turns from where she’s standing at the door to look back at Courtney, who’s still sitting in the window watching her.

“Yeah, Yolanda?”

A pause. Then—“You’re cute when you’re flustered.”


	2. hourstar.

If there’s one thing Courtney knows and can regularly rely on, it’s that Rick is always down to do idiotic, borderline-criminal things in the name of justice. (“ _We’re superheroes, Courtney, we’re doing this shit in the name of justice—” “Rick, please stop suggesting we slash Principal Bowen’s tires._ ”) He’s game for pretty much anything, and Courtney is starting to realize that the more time they spend together as the JSA, the more Rick seems to be comfortable being himself around the three of them. Yeah, he’s always stiff with Pat, but as the days and weeks go on, Court starts to see just how deep the cracks in his angry-man armor really go. It’s personal, this kind of hurt—it goes deep. It’s not the kind of thing someone can just share with anyone.

And yet, he shares it with them.

He might be angry, but he’s got other people to lean on. He doesn’t have to carry the weight alone anymore. Courtney likes to remind him of that sometimes, sitting up in the garage as Yolanda and Beth half-spar with each other with their shoulders sometimes-bumping.

“I’m the one with the muscles, _Stargirl_ ,” he usually answers with a sly grin, and she rolls her eyes and gets up to ask Yolanda about some form she’s trying to teach, definitely _not_ blushing when she gets a subtle wink from down on the garage floor.

That is, to say, they’ve developed a dynamic of sorts. She’s definitely heard Yolanda say the word _hotheads_ more than once, which isn’t _exactly_ wrong.

So when she presents him the perfect opportunity to get more details on Cindy Burnham’s crazy family, it’s no surprise that he jumps on it before she can even lay out her plan.

“Rick, I didn’t even tell you what I was thinking.” They’re standing around her kitchen counter, the rest of the Whitmore-Dugan family miraculously out and about and not around to ask her why she’s got a _boy_ in her _house_. (Admittedly, she’d gotten a little flustered trying to explain to Rick why he’d had to wait ‘til her mom left, but that’s _beside_ the point.)

“Does it matter?” He asks, sounding earnest, like he’s two seconds away from asking about getting a team puppy instead of investigating the world’s most narcissistic Blue Valley High supervillain. “Fuck it, let’s do it. What’s your plan, Court?”

“My plan, _Rick_ ,” Courtney says, trying on Pat’s _stern and knowing_ voice to cool his jets, “is to stake out her house.”

Rick visibly deflates. He leans over the counter and dips his head to the marble, a disgruntled groan leaving his lips. “What.”

“You heard me,” she says, crossing her arms with smug satisfaction. “Where’s the can-do attitude, _Hourman_?” Rick groans again. “C’mon, you said you were in. You know Yolanda’s got curfew and Beth…I don’t even know if her parents would _buy_ her leaving the house after 7.” She takes a few steps back towards him, nudging his shoulder to get him to look up. He doesn’t. “Besides, what happened to impulsive, action-hungry Richard?”

There’s a moment of silence between them before Rick finally shifts from his bowed-over position. His eyes are narrowed slightly, but she knows him better than he thinks. “Courtney, I swear if you call me Richard one more time—” She laughs, cutting off his not-at-all-serious threat.

“Fine, _Rick_ ,” she amends. A small smile cracks on his face. “Please? Please. We gotta do this. You _know_ we gotta do this.”

He groans one last time, running a hand through his hair before pushing himself back upright. Then he sighs. _Ah, yes. Victory_. “Okay.” He rolls his eyes when Courtney squeals at his response, but that small smile spreads into something bigger. He turns around and makes his way towards her front door before pausing to turn back to look at her. “I’ll pick you up at 8, yeah?”

“8. Sounds good.”

8:00 P.M. comes a lot faster than Courtney realizes. In fact, she’s so busy going over the remaining JSA items in her possession and trying to imagine who would fit best into them that she almost falls off her bed when she hears something hit her window.

Then, of course, she looks at her clock and yelps.

“You okay, Court?” Pat calls, as he’d conveniently been walking down the hallway to her bedroom _just_ like he always manages to. Courtney, still standing between her bed and her window, leans over to see Rick’s car parked down the street, and Rick standing beneath her window, eyebrows raised. _SORRY_ , she mouths, though she doubts he can see her.

“Yeah, fine!” She replies, clearly too late to cover up that something’s up. Pat’s footsteps stop in front of her door.

“You sure?” He lowers his voice. “Court, you need to talk to me about something?” He thinks she’s still upset about—well, about the last _month_ of insanity with Cindy and the JSA and the weird, weird deaths that keep popping up all just outside of town. Courtney _hates_ how guilty she feels leaving him out of stuff like this, especially when he means well, but—

Another pebble hits her window, still light but noticeable enough. She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, Pat, I just…forgot I had a date.” Boy talk generally gets him to back off, and tonight is no exception—she practically hears him stumble backwards.

“Oh, uh. Alright?” It’s then that Courtney feels safe to open the door, and she practically flies past him and down the stairs, not wanting to keep Rick waiting any longer. “ _Be safe!?!_ ” He shouts after her.

Courtney scrambles to where Rick has now turned and started walking back to his car. “Rick!” She hisses. He turns to look at her, a little half-smile on his face.

“What took you so long, Court?” She rubs at her arm and laughs awkwardly, embarrassed that Pat thinks she’s on a date for some reason.

With Rick? _No way_. “Got caught up in JSA stuff,” she answers, stuffing her hands in her pockets showily to mimic Rick’s stance. He chuckles. “But I’m here now! Let’s go.”

“Let’s go,” he echoes, and they trek towards his car.

* * *

To no one’s surprise, when they finally park across the street from Cindy’s uppity house, both of them realize neither person actually knows how to conduct a proper stake-out.

“You don’t have binoculars?” Rick asks. He leans back in the seat a little but doesn’t stop looking at her incredulously.

“What, you—you don’t have a pair in your, what is this, compartment?”

“Glove box,” Rick corrects, and Courtney rolls her eyes. “And no, I don’t normally spend my nights staking out Blue Valley’s _finest_.” He pauses, then reaches into the pocket of his hoodie and pulls out his phone.

“What are you doing?” She asks, instinctively grabbing his arm to keep his phonescreen from lighting up their position. He looks down at where she’s clutching at him and then slowly looks back up into her face. Courtney feels her cheeks get hot. “You’re—you’re gonna get us caught.”

He pointedly unlocks the phone and quickly lowers the brightness to its dimmest setting. “There. Happy?”

Courtney withdraws her arm. “Happy,” she grumbles, crossing her arms defeatedly. “What are you gonna do, Periscope this?”

“Yeah, Courtney. You know me, social media king,” he deadpans. “ _No_ I’m not gonna Periscope this. Don’t they take photos on stakeouts?”

Courtney thinks back to the last time she stayed up watching bad cable television cop shows. “I think so?”

“Yeah. So,” he wags his phone in front of her face pointedly, “pictures.”

Rick turns back to look out the driver’s side window, but Courtney has other ideas. “What? Can you even _see_ anything?” She reaches over to try and grab his phone, and he yelps a little, leaning back further in his seat to try and avoid her grabbing hands.

“Courtney, what the _fuck_ —”

“I’ve _seen_ your photography skills, Rick, your phone camera is _not_ good enough to see that far—”

“ _Court_ ney—!” He tries to shimmy away from her and drops the phone, the device clattering to the ground out of the—oh, crap—out of the open window. “Shit.” The noise wasn’t that loud, really…except they’re on a quiet, private street. In the neighborhood of a supervillain.

From the rearview mirror, Courtney sees something move behind them. Or—some _one_. “Shit,” she echoes, and his head snaps to face her, eyes wide.

“Did you just say shit?”

“I think there’s someone coming.”

“ _Shit_!”

Courtney pulls backwards, ready to slink down in her seat and hide in the shadows, but Rick grabs her arm before she can undo her seatbelt. She looks up at him, feeling frantic. _They’re not even armed, they didn’t even bring their suits_ —

“Do you trust me?” He asks, locking eyes with her.

“Of course I trust you, Rick, but w—” Courtney doesn’t get to finish her sentence, because Rick pulls her full-force towards him, almost hoisting her out of her _seat_ , and kisses her.

Wait, _what_?

His hands are cradling her face, thumbs surprisingly soft against her skin as he presses his lips to hers, and Courtney is so caught off-guard that she kisses him back.

(Why does she keep kissing her teammates?)

It hits her, a moment later, that this is their way to get out of being caught—they’re just lovesick teenagers making out in a car on the side of the road, it’s not like it’s the _weirdest_ thing to happen in a small town in Nebraska. Rick always _has_ been a good planner. So she decides to go all-in, in the event that the person walking by happens to try and investigate where that phone came from—she kisses him back earnestly, one hand coming up to comb through his hair, the other pressed down on his shoulder for balance.

She’s not sure how long it lasts—admittedly, she’d lost track of time the moment they’d started, and the Rick exception to the _no boys_ rule suddenly seems more dangerous to her than she’d ever meant it to be—but eventually, Rick pulls away from her, eyes darting to the driver’s side mirror to figure out where the shadowy figure has gone.

Courtney’s face feels _hot_. She’s flushed from head to toe, and is grateful that the shadows of the night are watching out for her and not letting Rick know that part.

“Jesus _shit_ that was close,” he exhales, quickly opening his door and snatching his phone up from the pavement.

“Yeah,” Courtney agrees, a little bit breathless from the adrenaline. Her face is still warm and oh my _god_ , she’d told Pat she was on a date tonight and now she kissed the crap out of _Rick_? Oh, this is very much not what she had planned.

They sit in silence, collecting themselves from whatever the hell just happened, and then Rick speaks first, thank god—

“You, uh, ready to call it a night.” It’s not really a question, seeing as neither of them had come to the thing prepared in _any_ way. Courtney nods, trying her hardest not to look at him and blush again. She’s ready to die of embarrassment and there’s this feeling in her gut that just won’t go away, and she’s just. Ready to call it a night.

The drive back to the house feels twice as long as it had on the way there, and Courtney barely manages to get a “ _Thanks, goodbye!_ ” in before she slams his car door and scrambles back into the house.

“Court?” Pat calls.

“Yeah, I’m home!” She starts to jog up the stairs when Mike crosses her path, eyes narrowed in a way she knows only means Pat said something. _Darnit._

“How was your _daaaaate_ , Courtney?”

“Go away,” she answers, feeling her face heat up again.

Stupid Cindy.


	3. courtney and the super genius, totally-her-own-idea idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in an effort to remain linear in this fic's continuity, this chapter is lead-up to our nitestar kiss. (thanks for reading kings and queens)

Courtney doesn’t realize how extraordinary her life has become in Blue Valley until the week of Blue Valley High’s annual winter formal.

Sure, she’s kind of known since the whole _Starman is my dad_ thing that started back in August turned her into a superhero. And _yeah_ the weirdness of her partnership-like relationship with her stepdad is not lost on her, since he’s kind of her sidekick now (which Court finds _hilarious_ ) and they’re caught in this web of lies with her mom and step-brother. But those things have been surprisingly easy to look over, all things considered—being a superhero is a full time job, which Pat laughs at but Courtney insists is true. All her other responsibilities, all the other _details_ of her life fade away because she feels responsible for Blue Valley. Her, and Yolanda, and Beth, and Rick—they’re the guardians of this little Nebraska town, and the four of them take it seriously.

No, her life of little (huge) extraordinary details really doesn’t hit her until she’s texting with Mary the weekend before the dance, sprawled out on her bed so that her legs are hanging over the side and kicking lazily. She’s bored out of her mind since the team has decided to not train today, because the weather has been cold; none of them want to be in the garage with Pat for more than ten minutes at a time since all the heat gets diverted to the not-secret part of the shop. (“ _For my actual, not-teenaged-superhero customers_ ,” he’d insisted, and Courtney rolled her eyes so hard she momentarily thought she’d pulled a muscle.)

**_Sooo_ …** Mary types. Courtney watches as the three little dots pop underneath her friend from home’s message, lazily tapping the back of her phone to the rhythm of a song Rick had gotten stuck in her head the other day. _**its prom season** _she finishes. Courtney raises an eyebrow.

_and?,_ she responds. A beat of silence, then Mary texts back again.

**_ARE U GOING_**. Courtney laughs to herself.

_idk_ , she replies. She’s telling the truth—she’d missed the Homecoming dance for Heroic Extracurriculars and had to apologize to Cameron for the next _week_ , mentally nothing that until the ISA have been stopped, any dances or other school activities are a no-no. He’d been chill about it, but Courtney felt awful anyway.

**_WDYM_** is the next text she gets, followed quickly by **_are there REALLY no cute boys 2 ask u?????_**

_not interested,_ Courtney answers. Another truth—Cameron _is_ cute, and he’d told her after the Homecoming disaster that he’d ask her to the winter formal even if she wasn’t sure she was going. And it’s not like there _aren’t_ …she’s just…

**_do u have a bf that ur just not telling me abt???_ **

And there it is: the million-dollar question. Because technically, _no_ , she doesn’t have a boyfriend. But that doesn’t mean she’s not in some kind of committed relationship with her teammates—and that isn’t even _including_ the fact that she hasn’t been able to stop thinking about kissing Yolanda and Rick on an alternating-night basis every single night. Her face gets hot just thinking about it. Courtney drops her phone back down onto the bed for a moment and claps both hands to her face, covering her eyes as if she can will herself to stop thinking about it.

She can’t. She _can’t_. She doesn’t have a boyfriend but she’s got a team that makes her feel the same way and there is no _way_ she can put a label on that. And like—what does she even think of herself as, now? She hadn’t even considered any other option other than straight. And now…she thinks of Yolanda’s smile, of Rick’s softened expression looking at her…and even _Beth_ , who she’d been reluctant to join forces with before, now feels like a part of her in a way that no one else ever truly has before the three of them came along.

She picks her phone up and replies _no_ quickly, to avoid trying to talk through whatever crazy, unpredictable, life-changing event she knows she’s right at the edge of. She’s not going to cross that bridge til she gets there.

**_ok u have to ask a cute boy to ur dance. 4 me._** The words _ping_ onto her screen and immediately, her brain offers her an alternate solution.

_good idea babe_ , she replies. _g2g, ill text u later?_

**_go get him, superstar._** Courtney laughs at Mary’s response. _She doesn’t even know the half of it_.

* * *

The perfect time to bring up her super-genius alternate solution to Mary's suggestion is, of course, at lunch.

“So I was thinking,” Court starts, tapping her fingers on the cafeteria table as the four of them sit down. Three sets of eyes flicker up to meet hers, and she grins sheepishly, suddenly aware of what she’s about to ask. She forgets how to continue her sentence for a moment.

Or, well, longer than a moment, apparently, because Rick waves a hand in front of her face and goes “Uhh, _yeah_?” as Yolanda and Beth laugh a little, starting in on their lunches but continuing to focus their attention on her.

“Ha, sorry,” she says, shaking her head to clear away some of the fog. “I was _thinking_ , we should all go to the formal. Together.” She pauses. “As a group! You know, friends do that kind of thing all the time and—”

“Weren’t you going to go with Cameron?” Beth interrupts, voice curious and soft. She cocks her head a little at Courtney before stabbing herself a forkful of pasta. Rick looks at Beth and then back at her, and nods as he returns to his food. Yolanda’s cheeks go a little pink at Beth’s reminder but ultimately follows his lead.

_Was she?_ “No, no, I—” She chokes a little on the bite of her salad she’d just taken, taking a big sip of water before finishing her answer. “I wanna go with you guys. Cameron hasn’t even really asked me yet and, besides—if we’re all together, we can sneak out if we have to and not be suspicious!”

Beth’s eyes light up. “Oh, yeah! Undercover JSA work—”

“ _Shhhh!_ ” Courtney, Rick, and Yolanda all hiss quietly, and Beth claps a hand over her mouth, eyes wide.

“Oops.” She mumbles.

They sit in silence for a few moments, eating quietly to counteract the sudden exclamation of their secret identities. There doesn’t seem to be much interest in going as a group, she realizes, and the sinking feeling in her gut has her push away the salad in front of her a little. _This is not how this was supposed to go._ She clears her throat and rests her elbows on the table, resting her chin on her folded hands. “But like…yeah, that.” She finally continues. “I dunno, if you guys don’t think it’s a good idea then—”

“I’m in!” Beth interrupts again, a wide grin stretching across her face. The weight in Courtney’s stomach gets a little bit lighter. “It’ll be fun, guys!” Courtney nods along enthusiastically. She watches Rick from across the table as he stares intently at his half-eaten sandwich, and then casts a glance at Yolanda, who’s kinda-sorta making eye contact with her, and…

“I guess,” Yolanda answers finally, folding her arms on the table. “I wasn’t planning on going, so I’m gonna have to find something to wear, but—”

“We can go together!” Courtney interrupts, reaching out to squeeze her arm instinctively. The memory of them on her windowsill suddenly floods her brain and she withdraws her hand, cheeks heating up fast. _Stupid blush_. “I mean—yeah, no, we have time, for sure—”

“Fine.” Rick says, sounding a little disgruntled. “Dances aren’t really my scene but like…” He casts a glance around the table, and Courtney’s stomach does a little flip at the soft look sitting just behind his usual school-neutral face. “If it’s with you guys. It’s better than going alone—or being alone and not going at all.”

Beth claps excitedly, her face still lit up with joy. Courtney grins at the three of them. Yolanda reaches over to gently punch Rick’s shoulder in delight.

_It’s a date_.


	4. nitestar.

Pat insists that they take Winter Formal photos that night. Courtney had glared him down in the morning, trying to get him to back off his stance with an _I’m the superhero and you’re the sidekick_ look, but her stepdad just shook his head, subtly gesturing towards Courtney’s mom in a _just do this for her so that she has something nice to deal with instead of the JSA nonsense_ kind of way.

_Ah, yeah._ Pat wins this time around—Courtney lifts her arms in silent defeat before grabbing an apple from the kitchen counter and slow-walking out to the Buick. She hears him shout something lovey-dovey to her mom and rolls her eyes, making sure to fake-gag as Pat walks out to the car whistling.

“Ah, prom,” he announces loudly as they climb in. Courtney rolls her eyes. “I remember when _I_ was your age—”

“Pat, please don’t,” Court interrupts, lightly whacking his arm and making him laugh. She shakes her head. “It’s not _prom_ , it’s just a _formal_ , and it’s not like I’m going with a _boy_ —”

“But you _are_ going with the JSA,” he counters. Courtney turns her head to look out the window and hide the blush that immediately hits her cheeks.

“Exactly, Pat,” she answers after a moment, “which is why it’s not worth hearing one of your _when I was your age_ stories.”

They pull up to a traffic light and Pat stops drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. “You don’t like my _when I was your age_ stories?” He sounds serious and gets quiet for almost whole minute. Courtney suddenly feels the guilt seize her: he’s trying his _best_ , it’s not like he asked for any of this—

And then he busts out laughing as the light turns green, pulling away and continuing to rhythmically tap at the wheel. She practically jumps out of her _seat_ , jeez! “I know you think they’re boring, Court, I’m not _that_ bad of a dad.” He turns to grin at her a little, raising an eyebrow before directing his eyes back to the road. “Listen. All I’m saying is, when I went to my first real high school _dance_ , I was in my own head too much.” Blue Valley High appears in the distance and moves closer with every moment. “You’re going with your friends—have a good time. Don’t let ‘em get to you.”

_Aw, Pat._ “Yeah, will do.” They pull up to the front of the school and Courtney pauses for a moment before leaning over to give him a kiss on the cheek. (She should treat him with a _little_ more dadly respect like that, right?) “Thanks, Pat.”

Pat smiles at her, looking more content than she thinks she’s ever really seen him. “Have a good day at school, Court,” he calls after her. It feels nice, to have some weird semblance of a dad like this—sure, he’ll never be Starman, but Courtney realizes that he may be the closest she’ll get to really, truly knowing him.

Yolanda is waiting for her just inside the front door, and as soon as they make eye contact, she grins and runs up to Courtney’s side and loops an arm in hers. For a moment, Courtney is caught off-guard by the gesture—Yolanda is warm beside her, radiating excitement and energy as she leans over to start chattering about the move she’s been practicing as Wildcat. Courtney knows she should tune in, and she _will_ , it’s just—

“Rick!” Yolanda’s sudden arm link breaks as she catches Rick’s attention from across the hall. He smiles the same slow grin he always does and starts to walk over, and oh _boy_ if this weren’t already a distracting conversation because of Yolanda, now it’s definitely going to be a problem because she can _see_ the way Rick’s smiling at her, inviting even with his not-quite-resting b-face. (She can hear Rick in her head, the way he’d repeated _b-face?_ in disbelief because Courtney refused to say the actual word to him. It makes her face feel warmer than it already was.)

“Earth to Courtney,” Yolanda laughs, waving a hand in front of her face. _Oh_. She hadn’t even realized she’d spaced out—

“Sorry!” She laughs sheepishly, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Thinking about, uh, tonight.” Technically not wrong?

“So was _I_ , Van Gogh,” Yolanda replies with a grin. “I was just saying to Rick how he’s gonna have a hard time matching his outfit to what the three of us are wearing, since we all picked different color dresses.” Rick rolls his eyes. Courtney laughs again, though this time more in the moment than before.

“I mean, he _is_ in the group text, ‘landa,” she says teasingly, and Rick snorts. “He saw what we picked out.”

“Bold of you to assume I’m still coming,” Rick replies. He pauses, for effect. “Or that I’m not gonna show up as Hourman.”

“You couldn’t handle the attention,” Courtney immediately replies. The thought of Rick showing up in his costume is borderline ridiculous—besides, he already promised them he’d go, and she’s not gonna let him wiggle out of that, even if he’s just kidding around. “You’re gonna show up at my house at 7 for pictures so we can get the whole Pat thing out of the way—”

“Pictures?” Yolanda and Rick repeat in unison, stopping dead in the hallway even though Courtney takes a few more steps without realizing.

“I—oh.” Well, the plan _was_ to announce it at lunch, but seeing as she can’t keep her mouth shut, now’s as good a time as ever. “Yeah, I, uh—I told Pat—”

“Pictures?” Beth echoes, suddenly appearing beside them the way she always does. Rick and Yolanda saw her coming, apparently, but Courtney didn’t—she yelps and then claps a hand over her mouth when she realizes who it is. “Oh, for the formal! That’ll be so fun—maybe I can get my mom to come take some, too!”

* * *

“Did you mean it?” Courtney asks, voice soft enough that she’s not sure Beth even hears her. The music from the DJ is loud, and even if they’re dancing together side-by-side while their friends are drinking _punch_ off to the side, she knows they’re all still trying to be vigilant watching out for any mini-Injustice members. It’d be easy to be distracted, to not be listening, to just space out in the auditorium—

“Mean what?” Beth replies. Of _course_ she’d heard. Courtney’s not even sure why she’d bet against Beth not just immediately knowing what was gonna come out of her mouth in the first place.

“That you’d never been invited to anything before.” The thought has been sitting in her brain and on her heart the whole night ever since Beth had mentioned it in the car on the way here. It couldn’t be true—right? Beth is _Beth_. She’s got to have had someone…but something in her heart says that maybe she hadn’t. Courtney can barely acknowledge the fact that up until recently _she_ probably wouldn’t have invited Beth to anything, and the fact that she’d been missing out on so much: the little clever jokes, the unbridled excitement about just about everything, the honesty and the devotion and the goodness that just lives in Beth’s heart permanently, forever. Beth is Beth and she’s _so_ fun to be around, even in the little moments between classes. And in the garage. And out on the battlefield, somehow, even if she’s still working on her fighting skills—it doesn’t even matter, because Courtney loves her now. She can’t imagine not knowing her.

Beth looks at her full on, eyes glittering a little under the lights. “Yeah,” she answers, then pauses for a moment. “It’s okay. I mean—I’ve never really had friends before. Not like you, anyway.” A little smile curves her lips upwards. “I guess I haven’t missed too much, since I’ve known you the moment you arrived here in Blue Valley!”

Courtney smiles softly, face heating up at Beth’s earnest compliment. “Yeah,” she murmurs, unsure of what to say. “But wait— _nothing_? Beth, you’re serious? Not even to Starbucks or the library to study, or to an after-school event?”

The loud music fades from the speakers as the DJ says something about _couples dances_ being next on the playlist, but Court doesn’t hear it because Beth shakes her head. _Nothing_. Courtney feels her heart breaking in her chest. “Like I told you guys—people don’t really listen to anything I say.” She pauses, stilling a little even though the music continues to play around her. “Guess I’m kind of invisible?”

“Not to me,” Courtney answers immediately, suddenly feeling guilty for the way she’d tiptoed around her friend before all this had started, before they’d become a team. A group of friends. (More?) “Everyone’s been missing out on you, Beth Chapel. That’s all.”

Beth’s whole face softens. “You’re the best friend in the _world_ , Courtney Whitmore.” She says the words and Courtney feels her heart hammering in her chest. It doesn’t take a mind reader to know that Beth means it genuinely, and deeply too. That _feeling_ is back in her chest but this time Courtney thinks she knows what it is. Knows what it _really_ is.

Love.

“Hey, you wanna dance?”

“I thought we _were_ dancing, Court.” Beth raises an eyebrow. “Is this a big simulation? Chuck warned me that dances usually have unexpected twists to them, based on all the shows and movies and life experiences he’s got access to, so I guess it wouldn’t surprise me—”

“Beth,” Courtney laughs, turning properly so that they’re dancing in place face-to-face. She holds out a hand. “I mean, do _you_ wanna dance with _me_?”

Surprisingly, Beth seems momentarily at a loss for words. It’s a cute look, if Court is being honest—Beth’s got the doe-eyed look down like nobody’s business, and it’s emphasized here when she’s trying to say something but failing. After a few moments of Beth-induced silence, Courtney laughs again, softer this time, and reaches out the rest of the way to grab Beth’s hand.

Beth’s frozen expression of surprise melts. “Sure,” she answers finally, even though Courtney is already holding her hand and stepping closer into Beth’s space. That feeling—that _feeling_ flares in her chest and she can’t help the smile that stretches across her face as she squeezes her friend’s hand.

Courtney would be more self-conscious about, you know, dancing with Beth instead of Cameron (who she _knows_ is somewhere in this room), but there are several out students at the dance tonight, and really, Courtney doesn’t care what people think of her. She _doesn’t_ —she’s never fit in, not really. Not until she created this little family of hers, colorful and a little bit violent and always, always on her side, even when it comes to taking embarrassing photos for a high school dance on her front lawn. She looks over towards the drinks table and sees Yolanda laughing at something Rick must’ve said, leaning into his side almost doubled over. Rick’s face is soft in this way that always seems reserved for her, and it hits her, suddenly, how deep this feeling runs.

She kissed Yolanda two weeks ago in her bedroom and spent days thinking about it. And then kissed Rick not even an entire week after. And seeing the two of them together, laughing and clearly enjoying each other…makes her feel warm inside. Fuzzy.

Like she’s home.

She turns to Beth, who’s looking at her intently with her nose scrunched. “What are you thinking about?” She asks, carefully pushing her glasses up her nose before slowly reaching her arm around Courtney’s waist. _A dance_. “You’ve got that look on your face, and I just—” Beth stops talking, then, and moves to cover her mouth like she always does when she thinks she’s said too much.

_I love you_ , she wants to say in response. Wants to shout, really, because god does Beth deserve to hear that. All of them do, but especially Beth. “We’re safe,” she reassures. Beth exhales. “I was just…I dunno. Thinking.” It seems like that answer is satisfying enough, because Beth just nods in response and continues to shift back and forth in a dance-like motion. Courtney can do this—she can dance with her friend. Who she’s in love with? Courtney isn’t sure about that part. _Does it even count as friendship if you love someone in a way you don’t fully understand_?

“I was thinking, too,” Beth murmurs, breaking Courtney out of her thoughts.

“Yeah?”

“You guys are the best thing that ever happened to me, I think.” She doesn’t elaborate, just continues her dance. Courtney wants to question it—especially the quiet Beth part, because Beth isn’t really known for her stoic silence (since that’s more like Rick’s role) and it’s weird, to be so close to her but not be receiving any of her chatter.

“What makes you say that?” Court finally asks. Beth blinks at her, then smiles softly and looks over to the table, where their two friends are.

“Seeing them makes me happy. And seeing you makes me happy.” She smiles and it’s like a dagger to the chest. It’s such a sweet smile that Courtney forgets how to breathe. “And I’ve never really been this kind of happy before, I don’t think. So as far as I’m concerned…” she trails off and shrugs a little. Courtney laughs. Beth is always the one who knows everything—the shrug doesn’t quite suit her. “Dunno. You guys are it, for me.”

Courtney exhales softly. _I love you_. The impulsive, hot-headed cosmic blood in her is pumping strong, now, and as always, who is she to fight it? “Do you trust me?” She murmurs, squeezing Beth’s hand. The call-back to Rick, a little private joke to herself because _god_ who’d’ve ever thought she’d get to use it like this.

Beth’s eyes get wide in concern for a moment, but Courtney squeezes her hand tighter in reassurance and she nods. “I trust you,” she answers.

“Good,” Court says under her breath. With her free hand, she reaches out to cradle Beth’s cheek a little, another reassuring touch of tenderness, and then leans in. And leans in. And kisses Beth Chapel, as gently as possible, right on the lips.

Like in her bedroom weeks back, except intentional, this time. “I think you guys are it for me, too,” she whispers when she pulls away after a second. Beth, who’d frozen a little bit at first but (maybe?) kissed her back, just looks at her, all-knowing and serene. Like she’d seen this coming from the start.

“Neat,” she says, sounding breathless. The music changes back into something loud and distracting, but it doesn’t really matter all that much. All Courtney can hear is the beating of her heart in her eardrums.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> was this cheesy? yes. was it out of character? mayhaps. will i stop? absolutely the fuck not


	5. this time, it's not courtney's idea.

Surprisingly, Rick is the one to bring it up. (Honestly, Courtney is too nervous about saying anything about— _this_ , whatever this is between the four of them.)

“Court?” He asks, voice quiet as they’re recovering in the garage after a particularly fierce training session. Yolanda and Beth have gone off to grab water bottles for everyone, and Pat is god-knows-where around the place—probably dealing with a customer, since he’s still trying to keep up the “I’m just a normal dude” front.

Courtney plops down onto the floor and looks up at him. He’s leaning against one of the dummy ISA members that Pat graciously re-made for them. “Yeah?” She smiles up at him and gets a patented half-smile back as Rick wipes his hand across his forehead, sweat matting his hair to his forehead in an oddly-entertaining way. It’s cute.

“What’re we doing?”

“Uhh, _training_ ….did you hit your head, Rick?” She raises an eyebrow. He shakes his head, pushes sweat from his forehead again, and then takes a few steps towards where she’s sitting and seats himself beside her.

“No, Court, I mean—” He gestures between the two of them with his taped-up hand. _Oh_. “What are we doing?”

Courtney feels her face go hot. “What do you mean, Rick?” He exhales in a huff, an unreadable expression on his face, but doesn’t say anything. _Dangit_ , she’s gonna have to quit playing dumb. Rick knows her too well. Shifting so that she’s got her knees to her chest, Courtney clears her throat a little. “I don’t know. I…I’m afraid that if I try and figure it out, it’s just gonna fall apart.” She tilts her head down so that she’s focused on the concrete flooring and not whatever look is on Rick’s face.

“The Justice Society? Court, we’re a team, we’d never disappear and leave you to defend Blue Valley by yourself—”

“I don’t mean the JSA, Rick.” She pauses. “I…I mean you guys. As people. My friends, my best friends in the _world_ —I don’t wanna lose you because I don’t know how to like…talk about my feelings.” _Or express them too well and end up ruining this dynamic that we’ve perfected_. Courtney still doesn’t look up, just tucks a strand of her hair back behind her ear. “So I guess…I guess you have your answer.”

“Bullshit,” he answers. His voice has gone sharp, all of a sudden—defensive? “Court, you really think—you really think any of us would leave you? When we—when _I_ —” He rakes a hand through his sweat-matted hair frustratedly and stands up, a bluster of intensity as he makes his way across the garage. _Is it something she said_? So much for being smart about this. Courtney watches as Rick grabs his hoodie and storms outside, making the shop door slam so loud that she thinks the entry bell fell off.

Yolanda, who happens to be returning from the other room, notices. “What’s his problem?” She asks, gracefully collapsing into a cross-legged sitting position and passing a water bottle to Courtney. She accepts it gratefully.

“I opened my mouth,” Court groans, dropping her head to her knees again. “I’m an idiot.”

Yolanda _tsk_ s before taking a sip from her water bottle. Courtney does her best not to lift her head and stare. “I mean, it’s _Rick_. You know how everything sets him off.” She scoots over so that the two of them are shoulder-to-shoulder. “He’ll cool off. What was the dumb thing you said, though?” Courtney can feel the energy of the grin on Yolanda’s face. “Wanna take note in case I have to use it against him later.”

Court thinks she’d laugh if it weren’t so important.

“I…think I told him I wanted to be friends?” She looks up. “I mean, like. _Friends_ friends.”

A look of realization crosses Yolanda’s face—and then a series of looks that Court can’t quite place. “Ahh.” A little inch of space appears between them suddenly, and it’s _crazy_ how easily Courtney realizes she can miss the warmth of her friends beside her. Yolanda, specifically, but that—that’s—“Did you mean it? That you, ah. Only want to be friends with him.”

She might as well get it _all_ off her chest at this point. “It wasn’t just about him.” Courtney buries her face in her knees again.

It’s not like they _haven’t_ talked about the fact that Courtney has kissed all of them. They definitely have, and it definitely has made the top 3 most awkward moments of her life—Yolanda, Rick, _and_ Beth all sitting comfortably tied for first place. And it’s not like they don’t know that there’s been _other_ stuff going on without her involved; Beth has had eyes for Rick this whole time, subtle or not, and Courtney knows that Rick and Yolanda have been helping each other out in more ways than just studying for History. Heck, Courtney has even spotted Beth and Yolanda holding hands in the gym some days. It doesn’t bother her in the slightest. She _loves_ them all. She doesn’t care what they do because she _loves_ them. They know that.

Right?

“Did you mean what you said to him?” Yolanda asks again, breaking Courtney out of her thoughts. Her voice is different, this time around—less jokey. More concerned. _Crap_.

“I…don’t know.” She _wants_ to, she wants to just stop this from getting out of hand once and for all so that she _knows_ she can be friends with these people forever. Courtney Whitmore has never, _ever_ been good at relationships. Her track record is limited but not great, and the thought of three casualties—people she _knows_ she loves—being added to that bad record is something she desperately wants to avoid. So yes, in a way, she thinks she means it.

The back door of the shop opens, and Beth walks in, toting her water bottle and an extra one for Rick. “What’re you guys talking about?” She calls over, stopping when she hears the entry bell ring. She continues her walk over though, a little smile on her face as she notices Rick return to the room the same way he left. He still looks disgruntled, but at least Court thinks he looks a little less upset than before. He intercepts Beth as she makes it over and they brush arms as she hands him the cold bottle of water. (If Courtney were in any other situation, she’d think it was adorable.)

“Nothing,” Courtney answers at the exact same time that Yolanda replies “ _Us_!”

_DANGIT_.

Rick and Beth make their way over so that the four of them are now sitting criss-cross on the floor. “What’s so _nothing_ about _us_?” Rick asks, though he absolutely knows. Beth nods in agreement, eager to hear. Courtney wishes her power was being invisible so that she could hide from the expectant looks of the people she loves so dearly.

“There’s nothing _nothing_ about you guys to me,” Courtney starts, trying to set the record straight before her motor mouth runs everything over again. “You know that.”

“Yeah?” Rick asks, clearly egging her on. Beth elbows him in the side. Yolanda glares at him. He exhales. “Court, if there’s nothing _nothing_ about us to you, then why won’t you talk about what _us_ is?” Her face feels hot again. What is she gonna _say_ this time?

“I don’t want to hurt any of you.” She claps both hands over her face and takes a deep breath, hoping that maybe Brainwave will crash through the garage doors and put her out of her misery. When she peeks through her fingers, she’s a little disappointed to find she still has to deal with the mess she’s gotten herself into—Beth, Yolanda, and Rick are all staring at her, waiting for her to continue. “I…I love you all. _So_ much. And I’m scared that if I…I try and _define_ that love, however it exists…it’s gonna disappear. And I’ll lose you.” She makes eye contact with each of her teammates. “All of you. And that is the worst, most awful thing I could possibly imagine.”

A silence washes over the group. Did…did she just tell them she loves them? Out loud? For real, in her serious, not-hero, not-reactionary voice? Oh no, oh _no_ —

“Did you mean it?” Beth asks, her voice sounding small in the echoey room. That is the _third_ time Courtney has heard that question directed at her in the last ten minutes.

“Mean what,” she asks tiredly. The enthusiasm has all but dissipated, considering she’s shown her _I love you_ cards and gotten absolutely nothing back.

“What you said to me, at the formal.” Courtney’s face gets even hotter at Beth’s recollection of the dance. “You said that—”

“That you guys were it for me,” Court finishes. She pointedly only looks at Beth, not wanting to gauge Rick and Yolanda’s reactions out of embarrassment. “Yeah, Beth, of course I did.” And then, because as Rick would say, _fuck it_ —“I love you guys more than I’ve ever loved anybody. Of course I meant what I said.”

Beth’s face softens into the prettiest smile, and she reaches over to grab Courtney’s hands in her own. “You know that we feel the same way about you, right?”

_Did she_? “Courtney,” Yolanda says, breaking her silence. “We love you more than we’ve ever loved anybody _too_.”

“Do you really think we would just leave you if it got hard? Or dangerous?” Beth squeezes her hands. “You’re the best thing to happen to Blue Valley. You’re the best thing to happen to _me_.”

“And me,” Yolanda chimes in.

“And me,” Rick mumbles, and _that_ catches her off guard. Even Rick? “You brought us together. You gave us your love. You’ve protected us and kept us together—of _course_ we love you back.”

_Of course we love you back_. Courtney is a little bit breathless, to be honest. _Of course_. “I’m really bad at this, guys—like, _really_ bad. I don’t want to hurt any of you—”

“That’s why there’s _four_ of us, silly,” Beth interrupts, standing up and hoisting Courtney onto her feet with her. ( _Oof_ , Beth is stronger than Court had given her credit for.) “But you’d never hurt us. And we know that.” She closes the gap between them and wraps her arms tight around Courtney, burying her face in Courtney’s shoulder. “You’re it for us.” Rick and Yolanda follow suit, joining the hug and adding to the warmth that’s spilling from Courtney in every way. Yolanda nuzzles into Courtney’s shoulder from behind and _god_ it’s so nice, to be hugged like this. To feel so safe.

“I love you,” she says quietly, to all of them at once. “I was wrong. I do want to do this, if you guys do too.”

The soft sounds of laughter fill her ears from all sides as the _I love you too_ s filter in. Of course they want to do it too.

Courtney wonders how she’s made it here, after all this time. After California and apathy and her dad, and her life that’d been falling apart at the seams only a couple months before—to now. She wonders how she’d managed to find these people (her best friends, the people she loves most) in the sea of whatever life had intended to throw at her when she got to Nebraska.

Someone hugs her tighter and really, it doesn’t even matter who it is. Her heart sits in her throat and she just ducks her head forward into Beth’s shoulder. It feels familiar. It feels like home.

Maybe her relationship track record isn’t quite as broken as it seems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK SO THIS WAS CHEESY BUT they all had to get together somehow, right? RIGHT? i got all of court's first kisses in so it had to be wrapped up so that i can continue writing about each pairing of this ot4 individually. because im obsessed w them all equally. stellar. ty dcuniverse.
> 
> more importantly, thank u for reading and commenting. may the ot4 live on forever. (im [koridick](http://www.koridick.tumblr.com) on tumblr, so feel free to message me about their polyam Excellence whenever u WANT)


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